


The Darkest Room

by Rosemary_and_Time



Series: Winding Roads (SMP AU) [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Violence, Dream had character traits, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, It's all characters, Prequel, Respawning with consequences, Respawns hurt, Sets up the next story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:55:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27979962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosemary_and_Time/pseuds/Rosemary_and_Time
Summary: The control room but… more dark and painful.  War is hell and the soldiers are children.=======================================================================Prequel to ‘An Impossible Choice’ within the same universe.  Not necessary for reading ‘An Impossible Choice’, just a side story I really wanted to write out.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & Toby Smith | Tubbo, No Romantic Relationship(s), Platonic Friendship - Relationship, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, best friends - Relationship
Series: Winding Roads (SMP AU) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2049288
Comments: 21
Kudos: 226





	The Darkest Room

**Author's Note:**

> This is short, but it's got some violence. It is within the same cannon as 'An Impossible Choice' which is a much longer story I have written that starts at the festival. This obviously occurs first, but it gives some context for certain characters. Not necessary for reading either story, they both stand alone.
> 
> You can respawn so long as you have an active set of respawn runes (Typically inscribed on bed frames). It is a painful process, you hang in a void for what feels like an eternity experiencing all the physical and emotional pain of your death, reliving it again and again. It can be quite traumatic. You will retain scars from the injurys you had at time of death. Context done!
> 
> TW: Blood, gore, violence, descriptions of violence, fighting, description of injury

Tommy breathed heavily as he followed his friends, his family, into the darkened tunnel. Everyone was limping or bruised, the explosion at the embassy had done its damage, they were weakened. Tommy winced when his shoulder bumped the wall, it had been dislocated and Fundy had reset it while they fled. When Eret said he had a secret plan Tommy’s hopes soared! Eret had done so much already, him and Tubbo had made the walls even. He really believed that whatever was at the end of this tunnel could be the key to victory. 

The tunnel was damp and occasionally something wet dripped down onto his ragged uniform. Despite his hopes Tommy felt a vague sense of unease… something felt wrong. He slid next to Wilbur silently.

“Hey Wil, do you know what Eret’s got down here?” Tommy’s oldest brother turned his head and shook it slowly, careful not to upset the bandages wrapped around it. 

“No, but I hope it’s good.” Tommy nodded in agreement. It would have to be pretty spectacular to get them out of this mess. Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, a light shone up ahead, a pinprick in the darkness. Everyone found a new burst of energy as they approached, the light calling out to them like a beacon in the wilderness. Tommy watched as his best friend practically skipped to the head of the group, stopping in front of a sign.

Tubbo stood for a moment eyeing the writing before someone finally helped him out.

“The final control room gentlemen” Eret’s low voice had a ringing quality as it echoed through the stone hall. Tommy shook off his misgivings as he entered the small room. It was made of obsidian, safe from any further explosions. By the walls of the room were chests, one for each member of their rebellion. Each was labeled with a name, on the far side of the room Tommy watched Tubbo happily trot over to his chest and start fussing with the latch. Tommy’s chest was near the door and he was about to open it when…

“Hey Eret, what’s that button for?”

A wooden button sat in the middle of the room, barely noticeable in the shadows. Eret turned to face Tommy calmly. Wilbur called out in confusion from behind him.

“What? These chests are empty?” 

“Down with the revolution boys, it was never meant to be.” The button was compressed and the distinctive sound of pistons screeching to life surrounded Tommy. 

He spun on instinct, headed for the door, a door that no longer existed, covered by unyielding obsidian. A shriek of pain caused Tommy’s mind to fill with panic. By the time he was back facing the room all hell had broken loose. Hidden doors opened and the members of Dream SMP poured out, fully armored and immediately striking out at whomever was closest. 

Tommy watched helplessly as Punz’s blade opened a hole in his brother’s side. Wilbur vanished out of existence with hardly any time to cry out. The shriek sounded again, Tommy rushed towards it. Tubbo was pressed harshly against the wall, with Sapnap’s axe opening a gaping wound on his torso. The smaller boy was only being held upright by the pressure Sapnap put onto the weapon. 

Tommy raised his sword, desperate to free his friend, but didn’t make it there. A white mask with the emotionless line of a smile blocked his path, shield casually parrying the blow. Tommy was beaten back before he had time to react, three hits and the skilled fighter in green had knocked his sword out of his hand. Tommy felt an impact against his ribs, heard Tubbo’s cries, then was gone. 

A last fleeting thought.

At least Dream makes it quick.

* * *

Tommy woke gasping for air in L’Manburg. He flailed, arms getting tangled in the blankets of his bed in their small base. Someone softly brushed his blond hair out of his eyes, carefully helping him free himself.

“It’s alright Tommy, calm, I’m right here, just breathe.” Tommy managed to make his eyes focus on the figure crouched by his bed. His president, Wilbur, his brother, was doing his best to calm him. Tommy slowly forced some of his muscles to relax, trying to take deep breaths. Respawning sucks. Despite the ache that seemed to radiate through every ounce of his being Tommy forced himself to sit upright. Wilbur looked how Tommy felt. Hurt, worn, tired, and betrayed. 

Suddenly Tommy jolted, Tubbo. He turned a bit too quickly toward the bed that sat next to his own in the room. It laid empty. Tommy felt panic start gripping him with sharp claws again, dragging him under.

“Tubbo? Wil, where’s Tubbo?” His brother sat down heavily on the edge of Tommy’s bed. 

“He hasn’t respawned yet.” Tommy twisted and started desperately looking at the glowing runes, they were active, they should…

“Tommy, calm down. The runes are fine, Tubbo will respawn.”

“But why hasn’t he…”

“He…” Wilbur hesitated for a moment too long. Tommy felt something hard sink to his stomach. “They haven’t killed him yet.” 

“But Wil, he was hurt, I saw him!!”

“I know! I… I know. They probably want to stagger our respawns Tommy. To make it so we can’t all rush out again together before they are ready for us. Fundy is in the other room. With some potions the three of us could probably be recovered enough to fight in… an hour maybe. But with Tubbo staggered…” Tommy felt the pit in his stomach flair, it felt like it caught fire. Red-hot anger filled his core. He gritted his teeth together.

“Those bastards.”

* * *

Eret tried again to shove past Sapnap to the boy sitting up against the wall. 

“Fuck off Eret! You said you were with us, stop trying to act all high and mighty now! This is just good strategy.” Eret turned, hoping to get some support from the other three in the room. 

George was sorting through armor and supplies the others had dropped when they died, making sure not to leave anything useful behind. Punz gave him a brief glance, but quickly dropped his eyes. Dream didn’t even look, the masked leader was sorting through a few bottles and stashing things in the ender chest he had brought. 

“Sapnap, just let me end this, you’re being unreasonable.” 

“Dream, you said you wanted someone left alive for a bit if possible, right? Can you tell this guy to get off my case?” The raven-haired man looked frustrated, his armor gleamed despite the splatters of fresh blood. Eret knew he couldn’t fight his way past him, much less face the consequences of drawing a weapon on his allies. Again. 

Finally Dream sighed heavily. “Punz, George, we’re done packing up here, start heading back to base. Stash what you can then get to the rendezvous. Sapnap you too. I’ll finish up here.” With a derisive snort Sapnap did as he was told, pushing past Eret roughly to grab a bag and follow the others out the door. Eret started to move towards the boy, his fri—his enemy on the floor, but was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“Step back Eret. I’ll take care of it.” When Eret hesitated, Dream sighed. “Just stand over there, you don’t have to leave.” Eret obediently moved near the middle of the room, while Dream continued forward to crouch in front of Tubbo.

Eret blinked heavily when he got a good look at the teen. Tubbo was sitting listlessly, eyes foggy and blank. He was too weak, too heavily in shock to react to anything around him anymore. The deep gash across his torso was bleeding more lethargically now. Things were visible in it that should never be seeing open air. Sapnap didn’t play. 

Tubbo’s hands weren’t clasped to the wound like Eret had expected. Instead the boy seemed to be casually fidgeting, moving his hands around exploratively in the pool of blood on his lap. His hands were soaked in this own blood, but he didn’t, couldn’t care. An image of someone fingerpainting in red paint jumped to Eret’s mind unbidden before Dream’s body blocked the sight. 

Dream seemed to pause in front of Tubbo, impossible to read as always. He eventually spoke.

“Do you know… has he ever died before?”

Eret was almost ashamed to realize he didn’t know. It had never come up before, never had Tubbo looked so small. So young. So much like a child swept into a war. 

“I don’t know.” Eret’s deep voice was hardly a whisper. The masked man nodded solemnly. After another pause his even voice filled the room again. 

“He’s too in shock to be feeling any pain right now. I’d still rather make sure though.” Eret watched as the masked man pulled a bright pink potion swirling with magic from an unseen pocket. As Dream reached forward to uncork it, Tubbo’s eyes finally looked up towards the figure in front of him. With a burst of clarity the boy jerked, some part of him recognizing the mask and the threat it implied. Dream hesitated. 

“Get behind me.” Eret stepped further to the side when Dream spat out the order. He moved until he stood directly behind his leader. Dream glanced back, confirming Eret had moved, then turned his attention back towards Tubbo, reaching his hands slowly over his head.

First the man lowered the green hood. His hair was a sandy tan color and looked almost feathery under the lanterns. Then, with slow reluctance, Dream reached behind his head and started loosening the straps that held his mask in place. After a moment the mask slid down off his face and rested around his neck, Dream pushed it to the side until it was no longer facing the semiconscious boy. 

“There, that’s new huh?” Dream’s voice was surprisingly gentle, and this time Tubbo didn’t flinch away when he moved closer. “This won’t heal the wound, far too late for that, but it’s not going to hurt, okay?” Dream’s words fell on deaf ears with Tubbo, the brunette only looked up at him in something approaching awe. Once the bottle was empty Dream tossed it carelessly to the side.

“There, told you, doesn’t hurt at all anymore does it?” Tubbo weakly moved a trembling hand upwards, as if reaching for something. Dream didn’t hesitate to take it in his own and help it on its journey. Tubbo’s left hand ended up resting against Dream’s face. From this angle Eret could only see the blood covered fingertips where they poked out near the leader’s ear. He could imagine the amount of blood now decorating the esteemed fighter’s face. 

Eret’s eyes were drawn to movement. After insuring Tubbo could keep his arm up on his own Dream released his hand and moved his own to his belt. Eret watched as Dream calmly drew a long, thin, dagger from its sheath. He paused to adjust his grip on the blade, before moving it towards the boy’s unprotected side. Exposed as Tubbo’s arm stayed lifted, touching the nigh unseen face that had been revealed to him. Eret strained to hear as the lighter-haired man muttered softly.

“Alright. Just a moment, isn’t that interesting? It’ll be okay. I hope you like what you see. Easy now.” The words were nonsense, but the tone was soothing. Dream lined up the knife under Tubbo’s armpit with care, then in one smooth movement the blade flashed and Tubbo vanished. Whisked out of existence in an instant. Dream was left holding a blood covered knife, kneeling in front of stained obsidian. 

**Tubbo was slain by Dream**

Without a pause the warrior sheathed his blade and readjusted his mask. When it covered his face satisfactorily he stood and turned to Eret. Eret saw a streak of red extending from under the mask and drying into the hair on the side of Dreams head. He didn’t comment. Dream pulled the hood over his head and straightened. Like a switch had been flicked he was once again the masked man, the ruthless leader of Dream SMP. 

Without a word Dream grabbed the remaining bag of supplies and left. 

Eret followed slowly behind. 

* * *

**Tubbo was slain by Dream**

The ping was a relief. Finally. Took that bastard long enough. Wilbur sighed, glancing at the empty bed beside them. It would be a few minutes still to wait before he respawned.

The time since Tommy had respawned had been spent with one purpose, calming and reassuring him. Wilbur’s focus on war, on being a general, had been broken the moment he realized his brother had died. Died scared and practically alone in a trap filled with enemies. For the moment Wilbur was content to be an older brother.

He sat next to Tommy on the bed. Expectedly the blond had drifted in and out of consciousness, a normal outcome after a violent death. Wilbur gently carded through his brother’s hair soothingly when he stirred, holding him close when he fell back asleep. All this fighting, he knew this could happen, he had accepted that bringing his brother into his war meant the risk of death. But it still… it still hurt. It hurt to see his brother brought to harm by his actions. It hurt to know it could happen again. 

Wilbur was ready to accept terms. He loved L’Manburg and everything it stood for, but he loved the people more. A sound, barely perceptible, thrummed nearby. Wilbur turned to see the previously empty bed now held a small body. Still, unconscious, but breathing steadily. He gently squeezed Tommy’s shoulder.

“Tommy, hey, Tubbo is here now.” The lanky blond jolted awake, almost lunging towards Tubbo’s bed. He was easily stopped, still weak and unsteady, by Wilbur’s arm wrapped around him. 

“Tommy, he probably wont wake up for a while. Be gentle. He’s going to be afraid and hurting...” Tommy nodded earnestly and moved more slowly towards the other bed, wiggling out of Wilbur’s grasp. The boy hesitated before climbing into the bed alongside the brunette, holding him softly against his chest. Tommy stilled, just listening to his best friend breathe, appreciating the closeness. 

Wilbur sighed. He tried to shake his head back into some semblance of leader mode, of president Soot reporting for duty. His mind rang with a thousand plans crumpling into dust. He didn’t know what to do. He looked over at the bed. 

At some point Tubbo had stirred somewhat, and wrapped his arms around Tommy. 

The two clung to each other, calm and secure in their arms. 

Wilbur had to keep them safe. That was the point of L’Manburg, the point of all this.

A special place where men could go and emancipate.

To escape from the tyranny and bloodlust of their rulers. 

That’s what L’Manburg was for; that’s what they were fighting for.

It’s for the two boys curled against each other in a rough cot, just happy to know they are together.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this short work!  
> If you've read 'An Impossible Choice' this really sets into contrast how much Wilbur changed in the time between these stories.  
> This is just my version of control room events, but I wanted to post it anyway!  
> Thanks for reading!  
> \--R&T


End file.
